Seven Year Stripper
by LetGo666
Summary: Two-part Oneshot, hopefully. The opposite of my story, Three Years Gap. This time, Misaki is kidnapped. That's all I can say without giving everything away. Rated M for Lemon and strong language.


Seven years. It had been seven years since he had last seen his lover. Despair swept away all other emotions.

* * *

_It had been midnight, and he had been sleeping soundly in his arms as he usually did, no matter how much he begged to sleep within his own bed. Misaki awoke in the middle of the night due to the dryness outlining his throat. Gently, he moved aside Usagi-san's arms and crawled out of the bed._

_As creaking sounded out underneath of his feet, his eyes caught a glimpse of a shadow, similar to that of a human's figure, crawling along the farthest wall from the staircase. Continuing onward to the kitchen, he pulled a glass from a nearby cupboard and filled it with water. The cool liquid that streamed down his esophagus brought life back to his parched throat._

_As a clink echoed from the cup being placed into the sink, a gasp escaped his lips. Soon, he was blindfolded and being tugged out of the apartment complex in a struggling mess._

_Clumsy noises entered Akihiko's ears. As he awoke, he noticed Misaki was absent, and he immediately rushed downstairs. Though, by the time he finally checked outside of the main door, the thief and his lover were gone._

* * *

He had just woken up that morning. Worse yet, his boss expected him to be read to start the day in the nest fifteen minutes, though he still need to get dressed and eat. Because of his forced job, dressing usually took him a half an hour. That is, if his boss wanted his make-up to be the best it can be.

Oh, how he loathed his boss. Ever since Masanori had bought him in the slave auction several years before, he had been required to be a cross dressing stripper for the man's gay club. He didn't accept it, yet he had no choice. It broke his heart everyday to be abused by such a job, but he knew if he didn't, Masanori would emotionally and physically ruin him when the business hours ended. It was bad enough that the man forced him to have sex at the end of each day; he didn't need it to be traumatic.

"Usagi-san," Misaki sighed in longing as he pulled on his outfit. Frivolous lace outlined his arms and legs while almost all of his skin was bare. Luckily, he was able to wear a leather thong and corset that cut off at his halfway between the end of his chest and his bellybutton.

The club owner entered the second story of the building, which happened to be his home. "Misaki! Where are you?" I thought I told you to be down here by now!"

"I still have a lot to do," Misaki shouted in response.

"What! Do you still need to shit around so that you can't help me in the shop for another hour?" Rage was boiling in the man's veins. Masanori now stood by the frame of the bedroom door, watching Misaki with his administrations.

"No. I still need to put on all of the stupid make-up that you insist I wear," Misaki snapped as he shot a hateful glare at the inconsiderate man.

"I already told you: there are men that would prefer a more feminine-appearing stripper over that off a regular male stripper. Plus, you pull off the look very well, at least much better than the other men that work here." Most of the other men had bulging muscles. Misaki was one of the few workers whose muscles weren't too toned.

"Still... It isn't fair." A pout played on Misaki's mouth as he worked on the damn mascara.

"Oi. Misaki," Masanori shook his head. "Life is not fair. If I gave you a choice, you'd expect another one and another one and another one. Eventually, you'd have your freedom. Now, we all know that can't happen. I need my slaves to keep this club open. Without them, my club would shut down and I'd have no home. Now, wouldn't that be terrible? And you'd be to blame for my homelessness. You don't want to be accountable for that burden, do you, Misaki?" Masanori knew exactly where the boy's weak spots were, and he could easily work them to his advantage.

Misaki sulked, "Well...not really. _But I don't really like these living conditions too much, either._

"That's what I thought. I'm giving you five more minutes to get ready, but I expect you downstairs by then. If you aren't...I think you know what that means." Masanori shot Misaki one of his most deadly glares before he headed downstairs to open up the club. It was usually quiet in the morning, but he had a few regulars for that particular time of day.

A shiver was sent down Misaki's spine. _I guess I can look forward to another night of terror, since Masanori-sama's grumpy. Let's hope I can avoid any problems today... _Self-pitiful laughter exploded out of the boy's mouth. As if there was even a remote chance he could stay away from trouble. He should just change his middle name.

With a sigh, Misaki applied the final touches to his face. Afterwards, he headed downstairs where a very stressed Masanori was awaiting him. "Okay, Misaki. Could you start with straightening up the tables? After that you can unlock the front door."

* * *

It was a long tiresome day for Misaki. He had only gotten about four hours of sleep (which is why he slept in), but on top of that almost every guy that entered the club wanted Misaki to ride him. Such was the case since he was a popular demand (?).

The next items on his list were to lock up the place and to wipe down every table and the floor. He did this every night, without expectation. He had learned earlier on that if he worked on the floor in the morning he would get less sleep, and he would usually run out of time, leading to a pissed-off boss.

As he neared the heavy doors, he noticed a blonde-haired woman pacing along the side of the building. When he put the key into the lock, it seemed she finally saw him. "Excuse me, sir, but could I talk to the owner for a moment," she called.

Misaki opened the entrance again to inform her, "I'm sorry, but we're closing now. Plus, women aren't allowed inside." The last sentence said caused guilt to come over Misaki. He felt as if he was being sexist, even though those were the store rules.

"That's all right I just need to speak with the manager or boss for a minute," she insisted as if the brief interview would depend on the continuation of her life.

A sigh fell from his lips, "Very well." Luckily, Masanori was still polishing the bar and locking away all of the liquor. "Masanori-sama, there's a woman here that wants to talk to you."

"Tsk. Tell her that store hours are over. Besides woman aren't allowed. Tell her to get the fuck out if she knows what best for her ass," he snarled loudly enough for the words to carry all the way to the front door.

On the inside Misaki whimpered. It would not be a good evening by any means. "I did," he squeaked in response.

A growl crawled out of Masanori's teeth. "I'll teach that bitch a lesson!" With a pistil in his hands, the man neared the entrance. "What the hell do you want?"

Oh how Misaki wanted to crawl away! This was actually very embarrassing for him.

Ignoring the warning, the woman proclaimed, "Hello! I'm Aikawa! One of my authors would like to come here tomorrow to collect some information as material for his next novel!" Sparkles seemed to appear and shine around the blonde.

_Aikawa? _The name sounded vaguely familiar. Most of his memory had been come cloudy due to the endless hours he spent working at his previous owner's house. He had to work on the fields during the day. Then, when that night arrived, he had been cleansed and sold. In all actuality, he was kind of relieved he didn't have such stress-filled labor as he once did.

"Hmmf! And what makes you think I'll let him or her come to my shop." Masanori rested his hand on his hip, keeping his balance more in one foot than the other, as his patience slowly started to wear thin.

"Nothing, but I'll have you know that we can pay for the visit. We can also put in a good word the your club, if you would like us to do so." Aikawa put on her persuasive face, and yet, she never lost the truth of what her words were.

"What kind of book is this author of yours writin' anyway?" The fire of interest had been sparked and ignited.

"It's a tale of how two men met in a club like this one. The two became more passionate for the other after each of their meetings and eventually they fell deeply in love!" Aikawa spoke the synopsis as if she was retelling a great past that had shaped the world making it what it is today. "Also, it's part of his Boy's Love collection," she added as a second thought, smiling perversely.

Everything the woman said sounded way too familiar for his liking. He felt that she was a part of his forgotten past, but try as he might he did know in what way she fitted into his life. It was such a shame. The only thing he could remember revolved around his lover, but even that information was limited: An Usagi-san that was extremely perverted, but also very loving only to him. He couldn't recall the person's name or his occupation. This caused him to feel anguish and also guilty. Shouldn't he know the most about this Usagi character? Yet he probably knew the least about him. It brought him to tears that he could only picture a silver rabbit with lavender eyes.

Misaki sighed, "Usagi-san." All the emphasis put on his past caused a mild depression to suddenly fall onto him.

Relief invaded Aikawa's being. _Finally! After weeks of searching, I found a club willing to lend experience and information to Sensei!_

_Usagi-san? _The words made Aikawa pause and take a second at the young man. "Did you just say Usagi-san?" This person did look like the Misaki-kun that had disappeared from her Sensei's life several years ago, but why would she be meeting him here and at a time such as this?

"Huh? Oh yeah," Misaki rubbed a hand on the back on the back of his neck. "Sorry about that He's just someone that I used to know." _I didn't know that I actually said that aloud._

"Someone you used to know," Aikawa asked, mentally on the balls of her feet. The mere fact that it was an actual person that the boy was talking about almost proved that it was the Misaki that she and Sensei had been searching for.

"Hai-," Misaki started but was soon cut off by his boss.

"Oi, Misaki. Don't you have more important things to be doing? Like scrubbing the floors. We have an important guest coming tomorrow, and I expect this place to look spotless," Masanori snapped, shooting another deadly glare at the kid. Misaki was his favorite slave, so Masanori tended to keep him wrapped up inside of the shop, barely letting the boy associate himself with the outside world. The possibility that someone else could get so involved with _his _Misaki, drove him mad with jealousy. He didn't mind sharing him with his customers, though. If they were so lustful and shallow that they had to come to his place, it was very slim that someone would steal his boy toy away from him.

"Eh! Hai," Misaki sighed. _How he loved his cruel owner! _Turning to the editor, he bowed an apology, and then continued back into the store where stained tables and a dirty floor awaited him. It would be one long night.

"I'm sorry about the kid. He's always talking about his rabbit-friend. Must really miss him. All well. So, we'll be seeing you tomorrow. Make sure to have the entrance fee and co-pay ready when you arrive. Other than that, tomorrow everything will be courtesy of me. I look forward to your visit." Masanori bid the woman farewell, unaware that the conversation between the editor and his slave would affect him and his shop for the rest of his life.

* * *

By the way Masanori's name means Model of Justice. ^-^ I tried to find something ironic or fitting.

I'll try to finish Part two as soon as possible but it will take a little while.

Hope you enjoyed this. Thanks for reading. 6-^


End file.
